Worn Thin
by Neon-Necromancer
Summary: Danny's been a superhero for awhile now, but the constant fighting and stress had been slowly eating away at him. And now he finds himself standing outside his parents' lab wondering if he should tell them.


A/N: This is cross posted from A03. I hope you enjoy, and leave a comment for any feedback.

* * *

Danny was a nervous mess. Well, more so then usual.

He made his debut as Phantom a little over four months ago, and in that time he became a bundle of nerves. Loud noises didn't bother him, nothing like that, and he always felt comfortable in crowds. It was high pitched noises that made his skin crawl, reminding him of the all to familiar, tell-tell sign of an incoming ectoblast. Or whenever he felt a sudden chill, either from an open window or a vent overhead that he didn't notice.

Standing outside of his parents' lab wasn't helping. The sound of a whirling saw blade and power tools mixed with the rich smell of ectoplasm that reminded him of countless battles and close calls. It was torture. Despite it all being muffled by the basement door, Danny couldn't help but find himself hesitating. Fear and instinct froze him where he stood.

A small part of him, a voice in the back of his mind, told him that now wasn't the right time.

He gritted his teeth. _But it's never the right time_.

Danny's tired. He's so, so tired. He was constantly sleep deprived, too used to running on four to five hours of rest every day since he got his powers. Honestly, that was the icing on the cake. Underneath was so much more.

Most days he felt more like a worn in punching bag then a hero. He had bruises, both internal and external, from the beat downs in those life or death battles, and the constant bullying he faced at school. Something was always going down at night and he had to be their.

No matter how tempting those extra hours of sleep were, there were always people in danger, fights to win, and problems that would escalate into disasters if he didn't intervene. His social life suffered under the constant weight of "do better, be faster" because his enemies would win if he didn't stay ahead of the game.

He hates lying to his parents, and just how easy lying became second nature to him. That was what this moment was about. Him, right here, bruised and tired and barely standing on his own two feet right in front of that basement door.  
At this rate, he wasn't worried about passing his classes.

Heck, now he finds it so cringe worthy at how naïve he was in the beginning. Finals? Homework? It was by the grace of God that he made it to the weekly tests in Lancers class. To every other student in Casper high, those were hurdles. To Danny, those were milestones, achievements. Who else could say they survived long enough from all manner of life threatening injuries to stare defiantly in Lancer's eyes and say "Who cares?"

Because he sure as hell didn't.

The disappointed look stung, but it was kittens compared to the heart shattering look his mother would give him every morning.

And as sad as it sounds, it was better then the alternative. The daily lies, the constant ache and pain, and the tiredness he felt in his bones didn't compare to the thing that haunted his dreams. Danny Fenton kept himself busy for a reason. Working on homework that he'll forget to turn in, and studying test material that didn't stick. It was all a distraction. Not a good one either, and that's why he blew it off to hang out with Sam and Tucker in-between fights.

He dreaded every dull moment, every lull in his life. Because when he stopped to rest his weary head, and left to his thoughts to their own devices, young Daniel Fenton would think himself in circles. He would always return to the same point and he would remember it all. The arch of lightning. Green, so much green before his vision turned from white into blackness. Pain that was scorching, blistering and unbearable. Pain that chased him over the edge like a roaring flood.

And then silence.

Silence that lasted a bit to long. Silence that haunted him since he woke up on that basement floor. Silence that made him feel so alone despite being cradled by his best friends. It was like the ghosts and monsters he feared during his childhood. It was always creeping in the darkness, just outside his peripheral, just a footstep behind him, watching and waiting for him to stumble and take him once again.

Danny's just standing there, fear rooting on the spot. Reaching out towards the handle, he paused, letting his hand hang there in the middle of the air. It felt like reaching across a canyon. And he wonders if telling them would help.  
Would telling them take the weight off his chest? Would telling them allow him to breath for the first time in months? He was just a kid. At the end of the day, he's just a scared kid.

He died. It was a simple truth, but it kept him going, burning the candle at both ends so he didn't have to face it alone. How does a fourteen year old deal with that?

"Danny?"

It's Jazz, her voice making him jump. She's looking over the railing at him with a look of genuine concern. Whatever resolve he mustered melted away, and he put on the mask to play the part he was so used to playing.

He smiles a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Hmm?"

"God it's freezing," Jazz said. He noticed the added layers of hoodies, scarves, and sweaters she added to her usual ensemble. "I think the a/c is busted. Are you okay?"

He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. It was a moment of hesitation, but Jazz caught it. She knew there was something on his mind, something that was eating away at him. But she trusted him. Her sweet, baby brother would tell her when ever her was ready.

When he didn't answer, she moved the conversation on. "I was going to make me some hot chocolate. Want any?"

Danny drops his hand to his side. He steels himself with a deep breath. The shaking he didn't notice before stopped, and the deathly cold he couldn't feel receded away.

"Sure."

Now...now wasn't the right time. He could tell them tomorrow. Right now he wanted to enjoy a nice cup of hot chocolate with his sister. It would help him forget, and right now that's all he wanted.


End file.
